


Seven Minutes (in Hell)

by CapricornBookworm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Closet Sex, Clothed Sex, Come Eating, Coming In Pants, Coming Out, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Kissing, M/M, Room of Requirement, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 23:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17313995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapricornBookworm/pseuds/CapricornBookworm
Summary: Harry and Draco come out of the closet - literally and figuratively.





	Seven Minutes (in Hell)

****

Harry let out a sigh as he looked around, hardly processing anything from the chaos surrounding him. He was in the Room of Requirement with all of the other Eighth Year students, having a party to celebrate the end of their first term. It was meant to be an ‘inter-house bonding’ opportunity, but it had very quickly turned into an excuse for students to get drunk and makeout.

It had been a long day of exams, and Harry felt that while he had scraped by on his Potions final and his Defense practical examination, he had likely bombed his Astronomy exam. His mind couldn’t seem to pull away from his hellish day long enough to enjoy the party. 

Harry glanced around the room. Hermione was trying to organize some sort of gift exchange for the holidays, walking around with a piece of parchment clutched in her hands - a sign-up sheet that so far only had her name and Ron’s. Speaking of Ron, he was lounging upside down in an armchair, watching as Pansy Parkinson kicked Seamus’ arse at a game of Wizard’s Chess. Meanwhile, Ginny (who was considered an honorary Eight Year after all she had been through) was huddled in a corner with Blaise Zabini; the pair had hit it off at the start of the year and they helped start a whole trend of inter-house relationships. 

As Harry’s gaze traveled around the room, it landed on Draco Malfoy, who honestly looked just about as exhausted as Harry felt. He was sitting on a couch next to some poor Ravenclaw who seemed to be attempting to befriend him. Harry could see Draco’s jaw clench harder with each passing moment. 

Suddenly the music that had been playing throughout the room was cut off, conversations trickling off shortly thereafter as everyone looked around in confusion.

Luna Lovegood was now standing on a table near the Wizarding Wireless, dressed in a furry black dress that made her oddly resemble a Niffler. 

“I think we should play a game,” Luna said cheerily, seemingly unbothered by everyone’s confused facial expressions. 

Silence stretched on for a moment, before Hermione spoke up, walking over to where Luna was swaying and humming cheerily on top of the table, “That sounds like a delightful idea, Luna. What a brilliant way to encourage more inter-house cooperation!”

“What game d’ya have in mind, Luna?” Seamus called out.

“How about Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Ernie MacMillan suggested.

The room began buzzing with interest, mischievous grins and nervous laughter spreading like a wildfire until everyone was nodding and cat-calling in agreement.

****

Naturally, Pansy Parkinson was the first to enter the closet that the Room of Requirement had so graciously supplied.

She dragged Anthony Goldstein inside with her, the poor bloke looking absolutely petrified. 

When the pair emerged seven minutes later, they were met with raucous applause. Pansy’s blood-red lipstick was smeared all over Anthony’s lips and neck, his skin flushed deeply and a drunken smile plastered on his face.

As they exited the room, Pansy pushed Anthony into a vacant armchair and then climbed on top of him, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a satisfied peck on his cheek. 

While Pansy and Anthony had been busy in the closet, Hermione had fashioned a small hat that was charmed to call out a random pair of names. 

Per Hermione’s creation, the next three couples to enter the closet were Michael Corner and Hannah Abbott, Millicent Bulstrode and Daphne Greengrass (who emerged holding hands and spent the remainder of the evening cuddled up on a couch), followed by Ron and a Ravenclaw named Isobel MacDougal. 

As Ron settled himself over near Hermione and Isobel returned to her mug of Butterbeer, Hermione flicked her wand and the hat began to announce the next couple.

“Next up, it’ll be...Harry Potter...” The hat called out and everyone began muttering and whispering to one another, guessing who Harry’s ‘lucky’ companion would be.

Harry’s palms were sweating and his heart hammered uncomfortably in his chest. He suddenly regretted ever coming to this party in the first place. He glanced toward the exit and pondered if he could find an excuse and make a run for it before the hat finished it’s selection.

But it was too late. The hat opened its mouth before Harry could move, “...and Draco Malfoy!” 

Harry’s heart jumped into his throat as if attempting to escape his body altogether and he swore that he stopped breathing.

Around him, Harry could see a mixture of emotions, people laughing hysterically, others looking apprehensive and concerned, but oddly enough, Hermione looked rather pleased.

“Right then, the hat made its decision. In you go,” she said brightly, holding open the door to the tiny closet.

Harry felt frozen where he sat, his body unsure of how to move or what movement even was. 

To Harry’s left, Draco had pushed himself up off the couch, straightening his slate-grey button down shirt and glaring furiously in Harry’s direction. Harry was sure that Draco was about to storm out of the room, but instead Draco walked over toward Hermione, his Dragonhide ankle boots clicking on the floor with each step. 

“Get off your arse, Potter. Or are you too scared that this will ruin your angelic reputation?” Draco sneered, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Harry expectantly.

Harry swallowed around the ever-growing lump in his throat, pushing himself up shakily from where he sat on the floor.

“Plus, I’d think that you’d feel right at home in here,” Draco added with a devilish grin, gesturing toward the small closet, “Seeing as you grew up in a cupboard under the stairs.”

Making his way through the mess of pillows, scraps of food, and empty bottles of Firewhiskey, Harry stopped when he came face to face with Draco, “ _Fuck. You,_ ” he spat, before walking straight inside the closet and slamming the door shut when Draco stepped in after him.

****

Harry lit the tip of his wand as they stepped inside, ensuring that they weren’t in complete darkness, “This is fucking stupid. Also, you’re the worst.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “You’re an arsehole.”

“And you’re a pretentious prick.”

“Well, your trousers might as well be _painted on_ they’re so bloody tight,” Draco grumbled.

“Well, you - ” Harry began, but then he backtracked, “Was that meant to be a compliment or an insult?”

Draco flushed in the dim wandlight and made to turn away from Harry, although the room was so small he couldn’t do more than take a step backwards, “Does it matter?”

“It might.”

“...I don't know, it - I mean you don't look awful in your trousers, and you arse looks a bit better than usual - ” Draco paused, flushing under Harry's gaze, “Don't let it go to your head, Potter.” 

Harry nodded, trying to allow his brain a moment to process the meaning behind Draco’s words. Then, before he could stop himself, the words were spilling out, “I think you look hot too, Malfoy.”

“I never said that!” Draco scoffed, somehow looking embarrassed, pleased, and offended all at the same time. 

Harry shrugged, his lips twitching into a smirk, “It was implied.”

A beat passed where Harry wondered whether Draco was going to hit him or simply walk out the door, but then Draco was grabbing the front of Harry’s shirt and crowding Harry against the wall of the closet, bringing their lips together in a heated kiss.

Harry moaned as he felt the warmth of Draco’s lips pressing against his own, a deep ache pulling in his gut as Draco’s long fingers slid into his messy hair, twisting his grip and guiding Harry’s head to the side so that he could slip his tongue between Harry’s lips. 

“Merlin’s shi -” Harry began, his words quickly transforming into a groan as Draco sucked Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth, effectively erasing all coherent thought from his mind.

Draco chuckled as Harry let out a helpless whine, head spinning from the pleasure and heat.

“Shut it, you arsehole,” Harry growled in retaliation, scrambling for purchase on Draco’s shirt and pressing Draco back against the opposite wall, their bodies colliding against the flat surface with a crash, each of them letting out a curse when Harry pushed his thigh between Draco’s legs, feeling the hard swell of his cock pressing against the inseam of Harry’s trousers.

Draco’s hips rolled up into Harry’s, effectively rubbing his cock against Harry's own in a way that created a delicious friction, heat building steadily in the breath’s width between them.

****

A loud bang echoed off the walls of the Room of Requirement, startling the Eight Years where they sat waiting for Draco and Harry to emerge.

“Hermione, don’t you think we should be worried?” Dean questioned, wincing as another crash and a string of curses spilled from the small closet. 

“Yeah, it sounds like they’re killing each other in there,” Ginny added. 

Pansy rolled her eyes and let out a huff of annoyed laughter from where she sat perched on Anthony Goldstein’s lap, “Oh shut it, will you? I’m sure your ‘Golden One’ is fine, he can hold his own if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Don’t you mean ‘Chosen One?’” Ron suggested.

She glared at Ron, “Do I _look_ like I care?” 

Before Ron had a chance to retort, Pansy turned away and began sucking a rather impressive hickey onto Goldstein’s neck. 

Ron turned back toward the others, shrugging his shoulders, “Lost cause, that one. Wouldn’t have listened to me even if I was jumping up and down naked in front of her.”

Patting Ron’s hand and trying to hide a smile, Hermione replied, “Ronald, I don’t think _anyone_ would listen to you if you were frolicking around naked.”

****

“Wanna get you naked,” Harry growled out, pawing at Draco's clothes and fumbling unsuccessfully with the buttons of his shirt.

“Do we even have time for that?” Draco asked.

Harry squinted at the door and then back at Draco, “On second thought, clothed sex is good too.” 

The pair of them began rutting desperately against one another, moving in an erratic rhythm up against the wall behind them, the tiny closet suddenly feeling as though someone had cast a Warming Charm, Harry’s glasses fogging up from the heat. 

“Shit, I - Potter, I’m getting close,” Draco grit out, his fingers flexing where he was clutching onto Harry’s jumper as his hips stuttered against Harry’s. 

“Yeah?” Harry reached down, deftly unbuttoning the front of Draco’s trousers and smirking in triumph at the wanton moan that spilled from Draco’s lips when he finally wrapped a hand around his cock. 

“Fuck you, fuck you, fucking hell - _ahhhhhhh!_ ” Draco called out, cock twitching encouragingly in Harry’s grip as he began to stroke his length.

While Harry’s hand worked diligently over Draco’s cock, Harry was floating somewhere above it all, trying to create a mental image of this moment before it was over. He tried to memorize the feel of Draco’s hot skin sliding beneath his fingertips, remember the way Draco’s cock leaked when Harry traced his finger just below the head, and savor the noises Draco made as he attempted to stifle his moans, breathy whines and broken cries pouring out of him in a steaming cloud, enveloping Harry in a warmth that spread fiery and hot over Harry’s skin. 

“Come on, Draco. C’mon. I want to see you _fall apart_ ,” Harry whispered, hand moving with increasing speed as it traced Draco’s length.

That seemed to push Draco over the edge, as seconds later he was spurting his release over the back of Harry’s hand. 

“Bloody hell,” Harry chuckled, bringing his hand up to his mouth to lick off the come, the sticky substance both sweet and bitter as it hit his palate. 

Draco’s breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling heavily as he stared at Harry with pupils blown wide, “How do I taste?”

Harry grinned and reached for Draco, pulling him in for a filthy wet kiss, tracing his tongue over the back of Draco’s teeth and allowing him to taste himself. 

As they parted, Harry leaned in to press a kiss below Draco’s ear, flicking his tongue over the sensitive lobe as he spoke, “Quite good, actually… Makes me want to taste the rest of you.”

Draco groaned, “Shut up or you’re gonna get me hard again.”

Suddenly Harry was being pushed against the wall as Draco fell gracefully to his knees in front of him, eager hands unbuttoning Harry’s trousers and parting the flaps, revealing Harry’s hard cock where it was pressing against the tight fabric of his briefs, fighting to get out. 

“Mmmm,” Draco hummed, leaning in to press a kiss over the warm head, laving his tongue over it through the fabric.

Harry shivered at the sensation, cock pulsing with renewed heat and arousal as Draco’s kiss-swollen lips wrapped around the head over his briefs, “Shit, don’t stop that - feels fucking _amazing_.”

Draco continued to lave over his length while his hands slid up beneath Harry’s jumper, trailing over the taut skin of his abdomen, skimming over scars, and brushing the hardened peaks of Harry’s nipples. 

It didn’t take much longer before Harry reached his climax, muscles tensing as his cock pulsed out come, filling the inside of his briefs. 

Harry reached shakily for his wand, intending to use a Cleaning Charm on himself, but Draco stopped him, “Don’t. I want you to go back out there just as you are. I want them to know what we did.”

“Fuck,” Harry choked out, trembling with an overwhelming mixture of shame and arousal as he buttoned his trousers back up and Draco straightened out his own clothing. 

Draco gave Harry a pleased smile, pulling him in for one last kiss just as a loud knock rapped on the closet door.

The door opened a crack, a thin strip of light pouring into the small room, voices stirring just beyond the doorway. Harry hesitated for a moment, but then a reassuring weight was pressing on his lower back, Draco’s hand fitting perfectly in the dip above Harry’s arse, guiding him out into the fray.

The pair were met with stunned silence followed quickly by whoops and hollers, catcalls and roaring applause as they emerged from the closet - both literally and figuratively - looking flushed and deliciously rumpled, leaving no doubt as to what they had been doing for those seven minutes.

It was a seven minutes that no one would ever forget.

****

**Author's Note:**

> Finally finished this WIP! Happy new year, everyone :) Hope you all enjoy this fic. 
> 
> Comments and kudos make me endlessly happy <3


End file.
